Anyone But You
by Kurai-BabyDoll
Summary: Claire 'Lightning' Farron, a former Officer for the Guardian Corps, is forced into prostitution to provide for her sister Serah. A club for the sex-trade disguised as a house for the mentally insane, where a jade-eyed Master has taken a certain interest in one of her new slaves. But the Master slowly begins to realize she's no longer the one pulling the strings. (Dark!Fic, R:M)


**A/N: This fic was inspired by the soundtrack of the movie Sucker Punch, though this fic does NOT follow the events of the film. Each song from the soundtrack will parallel with a chapter of the fic. So I would recommend listening to the songs if you wanna get a proper feel for the chapter, but it's up to you my lovelies! **

_**Sweet Dreams-Emily Browning**_** /watch?v=1OkFeZ1g4vg**

**Warning: Future chapter darksmut, beginning slightly OOC. Sorry if this is a bit confusing at first, all will become clear in time, please trust me^-^**

**I do not own the OST for SP, nor do I own FFXIII.**

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_{Sweet Dreams}-Emily Browning _

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A shadowy chamber.

Blinds were shut tight over the windows that threatened to sanction even the most diminutive ray of light into the room. The light had to be extirpated wherever it went. Or else, it would die on its own.

Humanity is disoriented. It searches in masses of the dead, whilst they detest upon each other in fear.

If even a point of light manages to shine through, Humanity prehends at it, hungry for its goodness. But Humanity is too far gone to keep the light intact. And in a contingent rage, it blots out the light that it had found.

For light is pure; fear and execrations only seek to exploit it…

This is why the light must keep itself hidden from the world.

The painstakingly slow ticking of a grandfather clock was the only sound echoing off of the walls of the room, along with the low, deep breathing of its lone resident.

A single knock shattered the virtual silence.

"Permission to enter, ma'am?" A voice emanated from the other side. Soft. Tainted. Nonessential.

Emeralds flashed in the darkness. "Permission granted." A huskey, sexy, accented voice responded.

The door opened a fraction, sanctioning the thin girl to step in and close the door abaft her. She shuffled nervously in the abyss.

The emeralds easily observed how the other woman strained to discern through the tenebrosity. Devilish amusement touched them.

The girl cleared her throat. "The parcel of new Girls will be arriving soon, ma'am." The small woman shivered involuntarily as her master hummed thoughtfully.

"And do enlighten me, Clover. How does this concern me?" Jade ocular perceivers met a lesser green shade in the darkness.

Clover let out a sharp breath, then swallowed hard. The red head found her master's irises in the blackness. They always looked so very intoxicating…she found herself licking her lips at her own repulsive cerebrations. _'No one may have the master.'_ The words rung clear in her head.

She clutched at the stack of registration papers in her arms and took another breath. "The Administrator tells me that you relish...observing all of the new girls that come into the business-"

"And have I told you that I relish observing the incipient meat?" The low octave, feminine voice cut through the frivolous one, slicing through the blackness like an experienced blade. "I don't believe you've had that luxury, Clover."

Before the girl could respond, the Master waved her away with a sleek tan hand. The girl bowed her head, promptly leaving the room.

The tan woman hummed thoughtfully once again, and a deep, bone rattling growl was aurally perceived directly afterward. The Master lowered her hand slightly, and was met with thick, coarse fur. "What do you think, eh Eclipse? I supposed I should offer my presence to the new meat. "

The woman smirked as her panther let out a low rumble in accedence.

Emeralds closed gradually in sick contentment. "They deserve a treat, yeah?"

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Vanille clasped her hands abaft her back and grinned, before skipping over to the other side of the immensely colossal auditorium. Grey walls, which had long, red, floor-length curtains over nonexistent windows on each of its sides, made up the auditorium, along with a raised platform on the far terminus of the room.

The heels of her short-cut alligator skin boots clicked on the hardwood as she trotted along; today was the day. Her grin widened, her carefully curled pigtails bounced along with her movements, and then she ceased at the back counter near the heavily locked steel doors. The red head ran her a digit over her own lips, adjusting the gloss that was there with a small smile.

It was proximately time for the new Girls to arrive.

The auditorium, nicknamed the "Theater", was all congruously set; ten foldable metal chairs facing the grey-wooded platform at the cessation of the Theater, called the "Stage"- for orientation.

Or, that's what they liked to call it. Orientation was the exordium of new Girls into the business-whether they had been forcefully brought there, or came on their own free will.

Though, the latter rarely happened.

Vanille leaned her elbow at the counter top, her head in her hand as she smiled thoughtfully at the lady behind the glass. She leaned down remotely to verbalize with the woman through a minute window at the base of the glass. "Where is the van, Michelle?"

The woman abaft the glass, who wore a clean- cut, white nurse uniform, pushed up her square glasses before looking down to type something on the key board in front of her.

The red head tapped her nails in a rhythmic fashion on the countertop, for the nurse was taking quite too long. "You done yet?" Vanille huffed, lifting up her hand to examine her nail beds.

Michelle pushed up her glasses once more, turning her cold gaze towards the redhead on the other side of the glass. "The GPS tracker is being rehabilitated for maintenance. Estimated time, however; thirty seconds."

Vanille let out a little giggle of exhilaration, before turning and skipping back over to the Stage to climb up the small set of steps and stand professionally on it.

As if on cue, a metal screech was aurally perceived, and the cumbersomely hefty doors at the front of the Theater were pushed open. In walked in two sizably large, muscled men, clad in grey scrubs. Behind them, in a contorted line, were multiple woman whose hands were individually tied with white cloths. Attempts to break free from these ties were met with punishment, Vanille knew. The thought made her smile.

The men lead the new women towards the stage where Vanille- the Administrator, stood with a cheerful disposition despite the atmosphere of the setting.

They sat the women down in the cold metal chairs that faced the stage; Vanille could finally examine the new Girls.

And she was exhaustively disappointed.

Seven. _Only seven had been rounded up this month?_ It was a number Vanille was crestfallen with. The redhead's sunny exterior wet out like a light, seeming to be overtaken with a darkness that matched the situation at hand.

Vanille smiled again. Though this time, it wasn't out of happiness.

Nonetheless, she perpetuated examining the women, going down the line from which they sat. The majority of them were quite typical; scared, vulnerable expressions on their pretty, (though generic) faces, most of them with tears streaking down their faces.

The redhead dismissed the first three weeping women; they weren't worth the attention. Her own viridescent eyes shifted one to the right, and onto the exasperated-looking small woman seated there. Her light brown locks fell into her face as she grimaced up at Vanille.

The redhead on the stage narrowed her eyes at the brunette below her. Then, Vanille smiled.

This one would be a challenge. Something Vanille appreciated.

The redhead's eyes shifted one again, to a violet-haired woman who bore a pained expression. Vanille's gaze shifted downwards, past the woman's large bosom, to the rag tied on her hands. It seemed as though the fabric had cut through the violaceous woman's delicate wrists; small dots of scarlet were staining the white cloth.

"How terrible." Vanille thought emotionlessly. She moved on to the next woman.

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The tall, tan brunette Master strode down the dark halls. The carefully-toned muscles in her long legs flexed under the black fabric of her slacks as she walked-though it was more like a natural strut by the way her hips moved with the motion. Her face was expressionless, though inside she felt a tinge of anticipation.

There would be new slaves today.

The brunette reached up to adjust the collar of her ebony dress shirt, its deep V neck showcased her sizably voluminous, perky breasts, and she ran a hand though her dark locks that had a natural sex-hair look to them. The pencil heels of her obsidian laced boots clicked as she made her way towards the cessation of the dimly lit hallway. She passed the rows of doors on either side of her; a low moan was heard behind one of them

She smirked.

The jade-eyed woman nodded towards the man behind a minuscule glass shield at the end of the hall, the doors to the elevator just in front of her slid open.

She stepped inside, and was gradually engulfed by the mechanism as the doors slid shut abaft her.

With a remote drop of the stomach, the lift commenced its way downwards. The brunette leaned against the plush magenta velvet that covered the interior of the elevator, and let out a long breath as her eyes slid shut.

"Care for a drink, ma'am?" the lift attendant.

Without bothering to open her eyes again, she gave a fraction of a nod towards the voice afore being handed a small shot glass.

The familiar tasting liquid burned in her throat as she tossed it down, her tongue slipping out to catch the stray drops of liquid on her lips. Though, a single shot did nothing to facilitate the bundle of nerves building just beneath her muscled abdominals.

She growled lowly at the unfamiliar sensation and the lift attendant adjacent to her visibly cowered. The brunette scoffed, and ran a hand through her wild, dark locks.

The emerald-eyed Master had never afore gotten nervous afore an orientation. She had done it more times that she could count, and it all became an ostensibly mindless routine of nothing but pure profit; get the women, train them to be good little prostitutes, and sell them for a quick buck.

The Master had become numb to any regret towards the procedure.

Then…what was so different about this time?

_The "Master" had been unsure about it back then. But if she had the chance to go back…would she really attempt to stop the events from occurring? It was a question she had asked herself consistently since that day. _

…

Through the small fraction of space she had as she pushed the magenta curtain out of the way, the Master spotted the Administrator standing on the stage just a few feet away from her. The brunette behind the stage's tabs frowned at the redhead in front of her.

Vanille was smiling.

Though in retrospect, seeing Vanille smile was not unusual. It was merely the way she was smiling. It was a smile that, unfortunately, the Master knew all too well; it was the smile of insanity.

That smile was the reason Vanille had earned her title of Administrator. The redhead's ability to be sympathetic and kind to the slaves, along with the capability of inflicting punishment when necessary; it immediately put anyone who underestimated her into check.

Though, even by the Master's standards, this quality could be quite frightening.

The brunette backstage dismissed the thought. It was unproductive. She instead regained her dominant composure as she heard Vanille announce her. Then suddenly as she stepped forward, that annoying cringe in her stomach set her on edge. The emerald-eyed woman snarled at the feeling. Now was not the time to be getting nervous. And for what? "_You_ are the master. _You_ control them. _No one_ controls you." She hissed to herself just before throwing the drapes open and walking out onto the grey hardwood of the raised platform.

The auditorium seemed to be void of sound at the moment as the alluring brunette walked towards the center of the stage to stand beside the Administrator, who nodded towards her and stepped backwards to let the Master take her place.

The brunette narrowed her eyes down at the disheveled looking women sitting just in front of the stage on the rusted foldable chairs. They stared up at the lean, muscular woman on the platform in both awe and trepidation, some with silent tears falling down their grime-covered cheeks.

The master scoffed lightly at the weeping ones. 'Pathetic.' She thought before clearing her throat to address them properly. Her feet were slightly apart; her hands clasped behind her back, making her look like some sort of seductive military dictator. She stared at the woman with an uncaring, panther-like expression, before taking in a small breath. "Ladies. Welcome." The accented voice run out in the virtually silent Theater. The brunette took a step forward before lowing herself to sit on the edge of the stage, she crossed her legs that were now hanging over the edge. "Can anyone tell me…why you're all here?"

None of the woman dared to respond. The master smirked at the expected reactions. "The reason is simple, actually. You're all 'ere because you're all worthless." The Master took a carefully timed pause, letting the words sink in for a moment before continuing. "No one wants you. Are you upset that we have taken you from your homes and loved ones? The world has labeled you as scum, and has abandoned you." The brunette breathed deeply, putting a hand to her chest softly. "And we as…caring human beings took ya' in, and have given you a place where you are needed." The master stood from her place on the edge of the raised platform, and turned sharply to walk away from the front for a few feet. With her back turned, she spoke again. "…So you should be grateful."

Silence overtook the auditorium once again. The jade-eyed muscular woman turned again to face her astonished-looking audience before opening her mouth to speak again.

The slamming of steel sufficiently cut her off.

Emerald eyes snapped towards the front of the Theater many yards away from where she stood, to see two of her worker men step inside the room as the steel doors shut tight behind them. They were on either side of a woman who had hair with light roseate tinge; an unusual color even for a call-girl. The Master assumed this woman must have been a sort of courtesan, because even though she was quite a few yards away, the brunette could tell that the woman was regally gorgeous. The master tilted her head back slightly in approval, a light smirk on her face.

The two henchmen were on either sides of the woman, and were leading, (in a better sense, dragging) her by her upper arms towards the stage. Once they approached, they shoved her down into the nearest metal chair near the other new woman and addressed the master.

"Sorry boss. This one came in late." The darker of the two men said with a slight hint of disgust in his tone.

The tan brunette waved them off, before shifting her eyes to further observe the pinkette. Much to her surprise, there were icy crystals staring right back at her.

The pink-haired woman's eyes were narrowed directly at the tall brunette. They were cold, hard, and uncaring as cerulean steel gazed into freshly cut emeralds.

The Master felt a faint shiver zip down her spine at the gaze, and in a natural defense, found herself glaring back despite the desperate urge to look away.

Finally the pinkette broke the gaze after what felt like an eternity, her eyes now shifting downwards at the cloth that was cutting into her own wrists.

It took the Master a moment to regain her thoughts. She grit her teeth and continued.

…

Vanille was currently at awe with the woman who had come into the room. The fair-skinned woman was impossibly beautiful, her structure packed all muscle but remained entirely woman at the same time. The light pink bangs framed her heart-shaped face while the rest cascaded down to her shoulders where they curled at the ends; though Vanille was captivated by the woman's eyes. They were so cold and distant, though they held a fire in them that threatened to wither away at the ice.

Vanille dare even say, that this woman's beauty rivaled even that of Fangs's. Though their differences were clearly visible. The Master's beauty lied in not only her looks and stunning structure, but in her wild, untamed nature as well. This pinkette was equally as fit and god-gifted with royal features, though another part of her beauty was the controlled, graceful way to her.

Vanille realized that Fang and the other woman were complete opposites, but they held a strange connection as well. This became most prominent when the redhead observed the way in which Fang was staring at the other woman, and the other woman stared right back. This of course, never occurred with the Master.

No one before could withhold the wild, ferociously alluring gaze of the Master. Even when perfectly content, Fang managed to make others fidget by just glancing at them.

Now the redhead observed the way in which, even as Fang continued talking, how her eyes would occasionally flicker back to the pinkette, who ever again returned the gaze.

Vanille realized that the pinkette had intrigued the Master, and this was a truly rare event indeed.

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Fang scowled as the fair-skinned woman's gaze stared off into nothingness, seemingly disinterested in whatever the brunette was saying. The Master ground her teeth at this, and then addressed the other (still terrified) women. "From this point on, you are nothing. You belong to your Master. You follow your Master. You have no free will. This will be thoroughly understood…or consequences will be presented."

The brunette heard Vanille giggle in confirmation beside her.

The Master gave a once over to all of the woman in their seats before her jade eyes settled on the pinkette at the far end. "Welcome to the business."

And with that, she turned on her heal and strode off of the stage.

Vanille took this as her cue to step forward as Fang disappeared behind the midnight purple velvet of the curtains. "In a few moments you will be individually examined by your Master."

A few uneasy looks surfaced from the women.

Vanille giggled. "It's a verbal examination." The redhead put a finger to her chin in thought. "Mostly." She smiled. "The Master will be asking you questions and you will be filling out more contracts. After that, you'll be escorted by our nurses to your new rooms!" the read head giggled again and clasped her hands in front of her in excitement. "You'll be getting your pay once your services here are complete. Enjoy your stay at Lennox."

At that time, multiple men in those same grey scrubs came into the auditorium and towards the still-shaking women.

Vanille turned to leave, but a husky, yet feminine voice kept her rooted to the spot.

"Excuse me, Miss."

It was the pink-haired woman, she had addressed her.

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"That man outside'll lead you to your room. Thanks for…cooperating." The Master said shortly, as she continued buttoning up her dress shirt.

The girl, still panting, nodded delusionally and stood, buttoning her shorts and stumbled over to the door of the dark office. "Thanks for a good time." The girl breathed heavily, quite out of breath before jumbling out of the door.

Fang scoffed, feeling quite bored though she had just had sex with one of the new women. She couldn't help it though, the woman was quite pretty and it had been a while since the master played with one of her toys.

It wasn't like the toy had resisted, though.

A knock echoed through the wood of the office door, and the brunette cocked a perfect brow. "Come in. It's open, yeah?" Fang let out a long breath, not really in the mood to deal with the girl again. "Look, love, it was nice, but I'm not really in the mood for seconds-"

In walked the regal, beautiful, and ice cold pinkette from the auditorium.

Fang's breath hitched quietly as their eyes met again.

"Sorry, if you were expecting someone else, I'll come back la-"

"I wasn't expecting…anyone. Um." The brunette quickly interrupted, and the pinkette raised a brow. She motioned towards the chair that was in front of her desk. "Sit."

Fang walked around to sit down behind her own desk when she realized something. "WAIT-" she called out, holding a hand out to stop the woman from sitting in that particular seat. Fang had just remembered that she and the girl from before had…recently cohabited that particular chair.

The fair-haired woman took a glance at the tan woman, then back at her almost-seat.

Fang ran a hand through her hair, and opened her mouth to speak. No words came out. What the hell was wrong with her? Acting like this…was Fang…nervous? She cleared her throat. "Don't sit there. Trust me."

The sky blue-eyed woman looked unsure for a moment before nodding.

Fang opted on standing with her, feeling her usual charm return. "So…what can I do ya' for?" she smiled with a raised brow at the woman across from her.

"I need you to pay me monthly instead of when you sell me." The woman's words were curt, light, though 'no' was not an option.

Fang inwardly cringed. This woman was making the business seem like evil. And that made the Master upset. She stepped forward towards the woman, stopping about a foot away from her. "Sorry, girly. No-can-do. You get paid when I say you do." She leaned in close enough so that their noses were almost touching, and it made her hot all over with the way she had successfully aggravated the slightly shorter woman.

The pinkette's cold gaze was unwavering. "You pay me monthly, or I leave." It wasn't a threat. It was a fact.

And this in turn, aggravated the Master. She scoffed, stepping back a foot, her hands on her hips. "You don't decide when you leave. I own you, do you understand?"

The steel in the pinkette's eyes only reinforced. "No. You don't."

Fang frowned, clearly agitated with this woman's antics. Didn't she realize that arguing would get her nowhere? _Though personally, Fang wouldn't mind other ways for the woman to persuade her…_ "You signed the paper when we took you off the streets. I'm sure it'll arrive to my desk quite soon."

"I haven't signed anything. You didn't take me off of the streets."

The Master grit her teeth. This woman was really beginning to dance on her last nerve. She was going to snap back, but the regal, feminine tone rung out again.

"I volunteered."

Silence. Fang couldn't bring herself to plan retaliation. _A volunteer? That hasn't happened since…_ The emerald-eyed woman could not complete the thought. It only brought her nausea. Instead, she attempted to regain focus on the woman in front of her. "Why…why in the hell would you volunteer-?"

"My reasons are my business, Ma'am."

Fang could accept that, for now at least. "Master. Address me as Master."

The other woman nodded once. "Yes Master."

The brunette blinked at the word. It was something that Fang found curiously inviting.

The way she said it…it was different from everyone else. It was not submissive as it should be. It was, in a word, merely a formality. And it irked Fang terribly, but also flooded her with curiosity at the status of the woman. She nodded curtly. "Right. Let me untie you so you can write a request form-" Fang had been referring to the cloth all new slaves had on them, but stopped abruptly when the very cloth was tossed onto her desk by the cerulean-eyed beauty. She stared at it. Those cloths couldn't just be taken off by a regular person. They had to be cut with a specialized blade to remove them.

"Your security system isn't exactly up to par with my standards, Master. Perhaps in the near future I could be of some assistance towards that problem."

Fang looked back towards the woman, astonishment even with suspicion in her gaze. _Who exactly was this woman? Where did she come from? Why the bloody hell is she here in the first place when all she needed was money? Couldn't she have just gotten a regular job or something? _

Multitudinous questions were zipping around her usually cool and collected mind, and one floated above all the others. _'Why do I care in the first place?'_

Fang handed the woman the request form and the pinkette gave her an appreciative nod before turning and walking out of the door.

Only one of Fang's questions managed to bubble up in her throat and successfully make its way out. And that very question was either the least of her worries, or the source of them.

The brunette called out. "What's your name?"

A pause. Then, the woman reappeared in the doorway, a touch of amusement hinted in her gaze. "Lightning."

Fang just stared as the woman disappeared behind the doorframe.

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_{Sweet Dreams}-Emily Browning_

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A/N: I know, kinda weird so far, right? It'll make sense soon, cross my bra:3

We all have those times when we go off our rocker and just feel like everything is bad. Though in this fic, Vanille has a sort of a split personality. So, only partial OOC-ness for her.

There WILL be smut later on in this fic. It was hinted here, but nothing was shown.

As always, comments are welcome.


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